Page 1 of Wild Spirit Revival (Montana Becketts, Wild Spirit Ranch #1)

Montana

June 1880

Molly O’Sullivan rubbed her backside for the hundredth time, watching the miles rush by from her spot at the window on the westbound train. Since leaving her home in Chicago, she’d passed through several states and more towns than she could recall. Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, North Dakota, and half of Montana were now behind her.

Though expected, she jumped when the whistle sounded, signaling their approach to Bozeman. Her last stop for now.

The back door to her car opened and closed, a familiar sound after so many miles. The hard object poking behind her ear caused Molly to still. The low, hard voice turned her blood cold.

“Smile as if you know me, and put your money and jewelry into this pouch.” The man handed her a suede bag.

She stared at it, unmoving, until he poked her harder with what Molly believed was the barrel of a gun. Of all the places she could’ve sat down, why was it at the back of the car, with everyone else facing forward? Unless someone turned around, they’d never learn what was happening a few feet behind them. Reaching into a small silk purse, she extracted a roll of bills.

“This is all I have with me.” She slid it into the pouch.

“That thing you’ve got pinned to your coat. Put it in, too.”

“No.”

He tapped the barrel against her skull. “No?”

“No,” she whispered. “It was my grandmother’s. I’ll not turn it over to you.”

“Fine with me.” He reached out and ripped it off her coat.

She gasped, unable to do more before he brushed past her and rushed to the next car. The whistle blew again, shaking her from the stunned surprise, reminding her they were almost to their next stop.

Grabbing her purse, she ran toward the next car, almost falling when the engineer applied the brakes. Steadying herself, Molly moved from one car to the next, looking for the thief. As the train continued to slow, she braced herself.

She knew his face and what he was wearing. Before the train came to a complete stop, Molly jumped down, looking to the front and the back, spotting the miscreant hop off two cars in front of her.

Shouting and pointing for someone to stop the thief, she charged ahead. Running as fast as possible while wearing a long skirt and men’s boots, she could see him jerking around travelers and townsfolk, putting more distance between them.

Gritting her teeth, she continued while shouting once more for help. As she ran past them, people eyed her as if she were the criminal. Spotting him race around a corner, she followed, sure she’d lost him.

Taking the corner, she plowed into an immovable object with a gasp, bounced backward, and landed on her behind. Shaking her head, Molly glared at the man who stood over her.

“Are you all right?” He held out a hand, which she ignored, preferring to stand on her own.

She glanced around, then turned in a circle. “Did you see where he went?”

“Who?”

Eyes afire, she stared at him. “The man who ran around the corner just before me. Which way did he go?”

“Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t see a man running. Just you, a second before you almost busted over me.”

She scoffed. “You’re as hard as a stone building. Are you sure you didn’t see anyone?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“That’s not possible. I was right behind him before he came this way.”

“No one came this way.”

“Then you’re blind as well as daft.” She puffed out a breath, her chest heaving.

He raised a brow. “Daft?”

She tapped the side of her head. “Daft. Up here. Anyone with sense would’ve known something was wrong when he ran this way.”

Scratching the back of his neck, he stared at his boots before meeting her hostile gaze with one of his own. “You’re sure he came this way?”

Molly set fisted hands on her waist and glared at him. “Are you deaf? I’m positive he ran this way. He stole my money and a watch my grandmother gave me, and I’m not going to let him get away.” She turned to leave when he grabbed her arm.

“Tell the sheriff. Let him and his deputies find the thief.”

“He’ll be long gone by then.” She tugged her arm free of his grasp and tried to hurry away before he grabbed her arm again.

“Look, the sheriff here is a good man. If you give him the thief’s description, he’ll have his men scour the town.” When he saw a slow smile form on her face, he relaxed.

Glancing over her shoulder to see one of the deputies, he was about to call out to the man when she once again shrugged off his grasp and took off.

He placed his hands on his hips and shook his head. Even wearing a skirt and boots, she shot away from him, pumping her legs faster than he’d thought possible.

“What’s going on?”

Eli Beckett turned to see Deputy Angus McGregor standing beside him, shielding his eyes to look down the street.

“Is that a woman running in the middle of the street?”

Eli nodded. “Sure is.”

“Where’s she headed?”

“She’s after the thief who stole money and a watch from her.” He looked at Angus. “They were on the train.” Eli tapped his temple. “I don’t think the woman’s right in the head.”

“Then, I’d better go after her. If she’s deranged, it’d be best to get her off the street and someplace safe. Maybe the doc can help her.”

He nodded. “Good idea. The doc should keep watch on her for a bit. I’ve got to get the supplies back to the ranch.” Eli turned away, then stopped. “She’s tricky, as well as daft. Don’t let her sweet talk you.”

Long strides took him toward Bozeman’s general store, his thoughts still on the crazed woman. She was a menace. It would do her good to sit a few hours in the doctor’s office and cool off.

The Bozeman railroad station bustled with activity as Molly O’Sullivan maneuvered through the crowd. The cacophony of chattering passengers filled the air, but Molly’s emerald eyes remained fixed on the clerk’s counter.

Gandy Broom’s round face lit up as Molly approached. “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

Her lips quirked into a smile. “I’m Molly O’Sullivan. I was a passenger on the train. I’ve come to retrieve my equipment and belongings.”

“Of course, of course.” Gandy glanced to the floor beside him. “I’ve been keepin’ ’em safe and sound for you.” Bending down, he hauled the wood box filled with photographic equipment around the counter before retrieving a trunk and a large satchel. “Three items, correct?”

As he set her belongings beside him, her gaze wandered, taking in the station’s rustic charm. Though the station was new, the windows were already crusted with dirt, and the scent of coal smoke lingered in the air. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement at the prospect of capturing Bozeman’s essence through her lens.

“Yes, just the three. Mr…”

“Broom. Most people call me Gandy.”

She smiled, curiosity getting the better of her. “Mr. Broom, I assume you know everyone living around here. What can you tell me about Bozeman?”

His eyes twinkled. “Oh, Bozeman’s a right fine place, miss. Full of opportunity for those willin’ to seize it. Why, just last week, we had a lady open up a millinery shop on Main Street. Caused quite a stir, I tell you.”

Her eyebrows rose with interest. “A woman-owned business? That’s wonderful.”

“Oh, we’ve got our fair share of forward-thinkin’ folks here.” He chuckled. “Bozeman’s growin’ fast, and with that comes new ideas.”

She studied her belongings, bending to run a hand over her camera case. “Thank you for holding these for me, Mr. Broom.”

Gandy beamed. “Happy to help, Miss O’Sullivan. Now, I reckon you’ll be needin’ a place to stay. The Bozeman Hotel down the street is mighty fine, and they’ve probably got rooms available.”

“That would be perfect. I’m afraid I’ll need some assistance with my belongings.”

Gandy turned to wave at a young boy sweeping nearby. “Hey, Tommy. Come give Miss O’Sullivan a hand with her things, would you?”

The freckle-faced boy, no more than twelve, bounded over. “Yes, sir, Mr. Broom.”

“I’ll carry the wood box, Tommy,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.” As Tommy began gathering her bags, Molly felt a mix of anticipation and trepidation. She could sense this was the start of her grand adventure in Montana.

“Miss O’Sullivan?” Gandy’s voice broke through her reverie. “Is there anything else you need before you head to the hotel?”

She shook her head, a determined glint in her eye. “No, thank you. I believe I’m ready.”

As she followed Tommy out of the station, her mind whirled with possibilities. Little did she know her journey in Bozeman was about to take an unexpected turn, one that would challenge her resolve and change her life forever.

Molly sank onto the bed in her hotel room, her fingers absently tracing the intricate floral pattern on the quilt. The afternoon sun filtered through the lace curtains, reminding her of what she had planned for the rest of the day. She sighed, her mind drifting back to the unpleasant encounter with the boorish man at the train station.

“Of all the nerve,” she muttered. “I hope I never have to lay eyes on the insufferable brute again.”

Molly’s teeth worried her lower lip as she replayed the scene in her mind. The man’s arrogant smirk, his dismissive tone. It made her blood boil. She shook her head, determined not to let one sour interaction taint her entire experience in Bozeman.

“Come now, Molly,” she chided herself. “You didn’t come all this way to dwell on one unpleasant man.”

She checked herself in the mirror, adjusting her hat and smoothing her dress. Ready to explore and photograph, she first had to meet Deputy McGregor at the sheriff’s office.

With renewed vigor, she gathered her camera equipment. Stepping out onto the bustling streets of Bozeman, her spirits lifted. The town hummed with activity. Shopkeepers arranged displays, children chased each other down the sidewalk, and the distant clang of a blacksmith’s hammer drew her attention. As did the sign declaring the building held the jail.

Stepping inside, she set down her camera case beside a scarred desk. The man sitting behind it looked and stood.

“Ma’am. What can I do for you?”

“Are you a deputy?”

“Sheriff Jud Foster.”

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Molly O’Sullivan, and I’ve come to report a theft.”

“Ah. Deputy McGregor said you’d be coming by. Sit down and tell me the details.”

She eyed the man, certain he was much too young to hold the position of sheriff. Nevertheless, Molly took a seat and explained everything, from the moment the gun pressed against her head to losing him in the streets of Bozeman.

“When may I get my belongings back, Sheriff?”

Jud studied her a moment. “First, we have to find the thief. With luck, he still has the money and watch with him.”

“You don’t believe he will?”

“He might. Then again, he may have already pawned the watch and left town.”

Shoulders slumping, she lifted her chin. “Then I should leave and let you start searching for him.” Standing, she faced Jud. “I’m staying at the Bozeman Hotel. Please get word to me right away once he’s in custody.”

Lifting her camera case, she walked outside, not hearing the sheriff’s soft chuckle.